Another Me
by Osmodion
Summary: A mysterious stranger suddenly pops up in Harry's bedroom-and it isn't any normal stranger. Harry comes face to face with his own doppelganger, although this one acts and thinks a little bit differently than he should. Who is this stranger? And what is his purpose?
1. Chapter 1

On September 14, 1992, Harry James Potter, very soon-to-be second year, in the second bedroom of his Uncle Vernon's house on Privet Drive, Surrey, met his doppelganger.

They looked exactly the same. Same messy black hair, same plain green eyes, same crooked out-of-fashion glasses, heck, standing on opposite sides of the bed, they could have been mirror reflections of each other. They were even wearing the same ratty grayish t-shirt and baggy, faded jeans.

At first, Harry didn't know how to react. One minute he turned around to grab his potions text book (which, after two agonizing weeks, he had finally gathered enough motivation to review) and then the next, poof. Bam. Pop.

He stared, disbelieving, into a pair of blank green eyes.

Cautiously, he asked. "What are you?"

His doppelganger huffed a bit. "How rude. Who are you?"

"Harry Potter." Harry Potter answered immediately. "Who are you?"

"As you can see, I'm Harry Potter, as well. How interesting."

They both stared at each other for a while.

Then, other Harry became preoccupied with picking at his clothes and glancing at the walls. It was almost like he had trouble believing that he was here, too. Finally, with a compulsory evaluation of the bed's condition, the other Harry sat at the edge of Harry's bed. Harry eyes' followed his doppelganger's every motion, and he silently swore. He certainly hadn't expected some sort of dark wizard to break into muggle London, and the stupid ministry banned underage magic. Weren't the wards supposed to keep threats out?

"What, or who, are you really?" Harry tried to ignore the nervous rush of blood in his ears.

The other Harry fixed him with an annoyed glance. "I already told you, I'm Harry Potter."

"But you can't be Harry Potter, because, well, I'm Harry Potter," he argued, grimacing at how stupid it was. "Besides," he added, "I haven't…tried…to make another me. Are you a death eater?"

"No. Why would I be a death eater?"

"Well, I'm the real Harry Potter, so you must be under polyjuice. Why aren't you trying to kill me yet?"

Other Harry smiled.

That's it, Harry thought, I'm going to die today. Screw the laws, I'm not going down without a fight. My blasted wand is in the trunk, but if I make a diversion…

Harry grabbed a fistful of old clothes and hurled them at the imposter before he could utter a word. Harry whirled around, grabbed open his trunk, and took his wand out. He held it threateningly and trained it on other Harry like a hawk.

Other Harry tossed the dirty clothes off to the floor with a scowl.

"Disgusting," he said, kicking the clothes away. "I didn't want to hurt you, but now I do, as payback. Just a little." Looking up, he scoffed at Harry's openly antagonistic pose. "You can't even use magic here, you know."

"No," Harry conceded, "but I can still hurt you."

Suddenly, they both heard the shout of "Boy!" and muffled footsteps. The two Harrys scrambled into action.

"Get into the closet!" Harry whispered. "Don't let him see you!"

"Of course I know that!"

As soon as the other Harry was gone, Harry shoved some old clothes in front of the door, and stood sullenly in silence.

"Boy!" Vernon screamed. "THE DOWNSTAIRS LIGHTS ARE FLICKERING!" He jiggled the lock open as he yelled. "I KNOW YOU'RE THE ONE DOING THAT! I PUT IN THOSE REPLACEMENTS YESTERDAY!"

Red-faced, Vernon opened the door. "You better stop that or else," he threatened. "We both know that you've been playing shenanigans again. I didn't even yell at you for making Aunt Petunia forget Dudley's permission slip yesterday! AND THIS IS WHAT YOU DO? YOU FREAK!"

"I didn't do it! I'm not even allowed to do mag-"

"Don't make me hit you, you little liar! I don't trust you and your freaky kind with your freak powers. We've put up with you for 13 years, you ungrateful brat, and all you do is cause trouble!" Uncle Vernon bent down real close, so that Harry could see his uncle's scraggly nose hairs and sweaty pores. "Show some respect." Uncle Vernon turned and walked away.

Harry closed the door and leaned against it. He counted to ten, slowly. One… two… three… four… five… six—

"OPEN THE DOOR! DO YOU HEAR ME?"

Slowly, he opened the door and put on his most put-out face. "I'm sorry, Uncle Vernon," he said. "I won't do it again."

"I don't believe a word of it," his uncle spat, and the door was slammed in his face.

Other Harry opened the closet door and glanced at the whitewash that had fallen from the ceiling. "Sheesh, what a beast." he remarked, turning his eyes onto Harry. "Always is at this time of month. So," he asked.

"I guess you're not trying to kill me, then."

"Told you so."

Harry glanced around helplessly.

"We can't have two Harrys walking around all the time," he said. "We could send an owl to Dumbledore…?"

"Not so fast," the other started mildly. He tested the mattress. "How do I know that you aren't just some imposter Voldemort sent to kill me?"

Harry raised his brows. "Well, for one, I'm not trying to kill you-"

"Really. What was all that about 'I can still hurt you'?" he teased.

Harry glared. "How am I supposed to know if you are evil or not?"

Other Harry hummed pleasantly. "Too difficult."

"Yeah," Harry continued, "and you know perfectly well that I'm the real Harry, or the original Harry, or whatever, because you haven't been working up a storm about it. So you know about this." He studied the other warily. "Who are you, really?"

His doppelganger shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not actually sure. I just came to in this room. I don't suppose you could think of a reason why…?"

"Magic." Harry snorted. "How would I know?"

There was an awkward silence between the two. Harry, realizing his mistake, added, "Uh, but I'm sure there was an important reason for your creation. Like, you'll help me defeat you-know-who or something."

Other Harry thinned his lips and studied the trunk. "There better be a good reason for why I was brought here, because I feel like I've left something very important behind."

"Well," Harry said uncomfortably, "there's that, yes, and then there's our present situation."

* * *

><p>Not much of a cliffhanger there, sorry. Anyone want to take a guess at who "other Harry" is? :)<p>

Props to those who caught the "coming out of the closet" reference, although this story might end up being nonslash.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: All things Harry Potter-verse belong to J. K. Rowling.

* * *

><p>Harry thought about it for a while. "I'll stay hidden until we arrive at Hogwarts. Then we'll go to Dumbledore and ask him for help."<p>

Other Harry grinned. "Sounds like a plan. Does this mean I get the wand?"

Harry glared. "I don't trust you with my wand."

"Fine, fine. Be that way."

They scurried around, packing up belongings. As Harry moved a sleeping Hedwig onto the top of his suitcase, he quickly stashed a silky black cloth into his oversized sweater. Zipping up a jacket over it all, he looked pretty normal. "Are you finished?" he called.

"Yeah, I think I've found all our good clothes. Merlin, we need to start using our money. Look at this," he said, holding up a ragged t-shirt with a small hole.

"It's not that bad," Harry defended. "Besides, who'd want to waste money on clothes anyway?"

Other Harry stuck a finger into the hole. "We've got so much money, why not?"

Being rich had never registered into Harry's mind. To him, he would always be poor, plain Harry. "I've never thought about it much."

"Weeeiirddd," other Harry sang, tossing the old shirt onto a small heap of what he deemed "clothes to be discarded."

As Harry watched other Harry mock, jeer, and fuss, a very bad thought came to mind. "Don't start being weird in front of my friends tomorrow, you got it?" Hermione and Ron would freak if they saw a 180 degree change in his personality.

Grimacing, he rescued the shirt from Other Harry and threw it into his trunk.

Other Harry simply rolled his eyes. "Can't stop me, they're my friends, too. Hey," he said. "how are we going to both shower if dear Uncle and Auntie are gonna watch our every step?"

Harry had never imagined that having a twin would be so difficult. "I guess I won't, then." Besides, weren't twins supposed to read each other's' minds?

"That's disgusting. Don't get close to me when you sleep."

Harry wanted to slap himself. His twin was more like-heavens forbid—Malfoy, than himself.

After other Harry had showered, he took great pains to find himself a clean, presentable outfit and formed a little barrier of clean clothes between himself and Harry on the bed. When he was finished, he promptly laid down and ordered Harry to hurry up and turn off the lights.

Harry looked on in exasperation. He had just finished packing, and he was exhausted. Who cares if they got a little dirty? It was true that Harry certainly didn't want to touch another person in his sleep, but a barrier for cleanliness? A little extreme.

"Do you want to color coordinate our closet, too?" he asked the darkness.

He heard a murmur that sounded a lot like "are you accusing me of something?"

"Nevermind," he muttered. He was dead tired and this argument wasn't worth it.

They woke up next morning to Aunt Petunia's banging on the door. She was a nasty woman, but she liked to presentable to the outside world—and that meant she was usually very punctual. She liked to say always punctual, but that was because she blamed her off days on Harry's freakishness.

"She's a perfect alarm clock," Other Harry told the ceiling.

Harry rubbed his eyes and went to brush his teeth. Dudley had been forced awake early, too, and was extra grumpy about it. Harry had to refill his water cup twice and mop the ground after Dudley left.

When he was done, he refilled his cup and squeezed out another squirt of toothpaste for Other Harry. Five minutes later, he was tiptoeing furtively down the hall to the bathroom, again.

To his horrible luck, Aunt Petunia saw him. He faked ignorance and got off with a drop in Aunt Petunia's estimation of his intellect (if it could go any lower.)

Other Harry was sitting on their trunk when Harry got back.

"So I guess this is where we switch," Harry said blandly.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'll see you right after welcoming banquet." His twin dragged their trunk to the door.

He stopped right before he had left Harry's room. "Oh, and by the way, why do you insist on hiding that invisibility cloak?" He grinned. "You did know that I knew about it, right?"

Harry stopped in his tracks and coughed a little, embarrassed. "Sorry, I-uh-you know, just had to make sure."

"Sure, sure."

Harry and Other Harry were seated comfortably in the back trunk. Dudley certainly didn't try to hog the entire backseat to himself. Uncle Vernon was very quiet and accommodating, as usual, and Aunt Petunia was smiling. Of course.

Harry was surprised that he had remained undiscovered. "Power of the muggle mind," Other Harry whispered, in awe.

"WHAT?" Dudley yelled. "MOM, Harry's saying weird things again!"

"Oh please, don't say that, Dudley. You don't mean that right?" Other Harry simpered.

Dudley looked surprised for a moment, but quickly recovered. "I mean every word of it, freak!"

Other Harry cowered and whimpered while Dudley laughed and yelled insults. Other Harry starting pulling the window down just as Dudley yelled "DIE, FREAK!"

Aunt Petunia moved her hand over the AC and frowned. "Dear, is it getting a little stuffy in here?"

Uncle Vernon noticed the half-open window and switched the main window controls furiously until he found the right one. It made a whirling noise, but nothing happened.

"GET YOUR FILTHY HAND OFF THE BUTTON!" Vernon yelled.

"GET YOUR FILTHY HAND OFF THE BUTTON!" Dudley echoed.

Other Harry started to cry, but he kept his finger tightly on the button. Harry kicked Other Harry a couple times, hard. They were going to pay for this.

By now, the passing drivers had started to take notice of Vernon's car and the crying boy. Shocked, they gave him a wide berth. One wrote down Vernon's license plate number.

Aunt Petunia, most skilled in the art of damage-control, dug her fancy manicured nails into Other Harry's finger until he let go. "Next time, we'll put you in the trunk, where you'll be with the baggage, like you belong," she hissed.

"People will notice," Other Harry sniffed

Vernon laughed. "We'll strap you down."

"You CAN'T do that! There's not enough room."

"Then we'll just pile the luggage on top of you."

Other Harry's mouth tensed. "The other freaks will notice if I'm hurt."

"SHUT UP," Dudley said. "Nobody cares."

"Then why are you even here?" Other Harry shot back.

Dudley glared, but he had nothing to say to that. As always, he looked to his mother for help. "Mom…" he complained.

"Don't worry, Duddykins, you won't have to come next year. You can go to Johnny's."

"But I want to go to Laserlight!" He whined, trying to milk the most out of this.

"Of course, dearie."

Dudley satisfied, the rest of the car ride was in silence. Harry fumed while Other Harry stared serenely out the window.

Harry watched his family drive away. They had left in a rush, probably to get away from him and all the other wizarding folk.

"Quite scared of the station, those." Other Harry murmured. Remembering his previous ire, Harry slapped his arm and whispered some fierce words.

"But I did it all for you." Other Harry giggled. "Oh, look. Ron and Ron's family."

"Don't mess this up," Harry warned.

"Ron!" Other Harry dashed off.

As he watched the two converse, he felt that he hadn't had to worry after all. They seemed to have fallen into their old pattern of Quidditch, Malfoy, summer vacations, and other catching up. Harry felt a bit of disappointment as he watched them board the train. It was him who should have been having all that fun with Ron, not worrying about how Dumbledore will react to his double.

* * *

><p>Raz-Good guess, but not quite. Other-Harry is too childish.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Tugging his invisibility cloak out of the closing doors of train, he scanned the aisle for an open compartment. He was the last to get onto the Hogwarts Express, and most of them were already completely full.

Harry stopped by the room where Other Harry, Hermione, Ron, Neville, Ginny and Luna were staying. He suddenly realized how very lonely he was. Shaking his head, he moved on with his search.

Harry was surprised to see Cho Chang and Colin Creevy in a compartment along with some others. He blushed a little because she looked as radiant as ever. She was very smart, a great Seeker, and always brave enough to speak her mind—not to mention pretty.

He ran to the nearest open compartment he found, leaned on the door, and kept an eye out to dodge the candy trolley. There were three girls inside, two Hufflepuffs and a shy Ravenclaw, who were talking about some probably girly book they had just read. Something about mermaids. He didn't pay much attention to it.

All in all, it was a very uneventful ride, and Harry was very glad to leave.

Sneaking in a thesdal carriage proved much more difficult. Too difficult. He ended up having to ride on one of the thesdals in the back (and without saddles, they HURT.) He thought that the dark-skinned Slytherin with the crazy seven-times (or was it nine) widowed mother had look his way strangely, but maybe it was just Harry. Harry grumped a little; why did it have to be a Slytherin who noticed him? Nothing good ever came out of Slytherin, and if he had been actually sorted there, then his uncle would have been right. Everybody would've hated him.

Harry awkwardly jumped off the thesdal when they got to the castle. It always looked grand, welcoming, and well, very magical. He followed Other Harry into the main hall and sat at the edge of the Gryffindor table. He hoped that a plate wouldn't appear in front of him, twiddled his thumbs a little, and then decided to just stand to the side and wait for the banquet to end. When the food came, he was starving, and tried to communicate through telepathy his wish for some food to his twin.

Other Harry never glanced his way.

Sighing, he sucked his stomach in and looked around the great hall for something interesting.

This year's defense teacher looked like he had a screw loose—but in a rough and tough way. His one eye was gigantically oversized, clear blue, and had a brain of itself. His face was scarred, and his hair was a mess, like Einstein and Snape mixed but brownish. He had a perpetual scowl on his face, and twitched as often as Quirrel did, but without the nervousness.

This one was definitely out to get him. Even if this Mad-Eye Moody was trusted by Dumbledore, he looked like a textbook death eater—crazy, dark, and angry. He almost preferred Lucius over this guy.

Slowly, the banquet came to an end, and Harry, whose one leg had fallen asleep, limped over to the Headmaster's Office. True to his word, Other Harry was there as well.

"Did you get rid of Hermione and Ron?"

"Piece of cake."

Harry squinted. "Did you do anything to them?"

"I'm you. Whatever you would've done, I did."

Harry decided to question Other Harry later. Other Harry started guessing passwords, and voila! He got blood pops on his sixth try.

Just as Harry expected, they walked in to a smiling Dumbledore. Dumbledore was considered the greatest wizard of the time, maybe equivalent to Merlin himself. He was powerful, wise, a little bit crazy. No one would've thought to hear it from him, but Harry had always thought Dumbledore was a mite off his rocker. Surrounded by a pile of dusty books, dusty vials, and dusty pieces of metal pieces mashed up with animal parts, anybody would understand. The only non-dusty thing was his fishbowl of lemon drops, never far from his side. But Harry never judged because, well, was _Harry_ any better?

Other Harry wrinkled his nose.

"Why, Harry," Dumbledore said, "what have you brought here today?"

Harry took off his invisibility cloak. "How did you know I was here, professor?"

"All things reveal themselves in time, my boys." Dumbledore murmured with a twinkle in his eyes and with a grandfatherly smile. Gesturing to the chair, he straighten up and said "Take a seat. Now, how did this predicament come about?"

Other Harry answered while Harry tried to recall if there had always been two chairs in Dumbledore's office.

"Not sure, professor," Other Harry answered. He drew a finger across the arm of his chair. "I just, I don't know, existed, suddenly. We came here to ask you about it."

Dumbledore looked thoughtful for a while. "Harry, has anything memorable happened to you recently?"

Harry racked his brains. "Uh, no sir."

"And you?"

"I don't believe so, professor."

Dumbledore hmmed and tsked to himself. "I believe that I will have to think on this. Have you two decided on how you will accommodate this issue?"

"We've decided to alternate days," Other Harry piped up. "One Harry will attend classes on one day, and the other will use the invisibility cloak and follow classes secretly. Then, we'll switch."

Harry scowled.

Dumbledore looked worried. "Are you sure about this, boys? I hope that you've spent time thinking about your choices."

"We are, professor," said Other Harry.

"Are you, Harry?"

"Yes, sir."

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair. "Well, then, my boys, this issue has been taken care of. I'll notify you both immediately when I have an answer for you. Have a good day, Harry and Harry."

"Goodbye, professor."

As soon as the Harrys had left, Dumbledore firecalled McGonagall. It was risky to call her so soon, but he had to make sure that this was not what he thought it was. He jotted a note down for the Unspeakables department to borrow some much needed some items. Fawkes cooed in worry as he left.

Harry was walking back to the Gryffindor common room feeling much calmer. Dumbledore was widely regarded as the one of most brilliant minds alive, so if anyone could think of something, it would probably be him.

He smiled at Other Harry. Other Harry scowled.

"What?" Harry asked.

"He certainly is a magician."

"Who?"

"Dumbledore. Mr. Bumble-and-bore."

"What?" Harry cried, affronted.

"You were supposed to say 'why'." Other Harry deadpanned.

"What do you mean? Dumbledore's the best chance we have!"

Other Harry smirked. "Ah, I was thinking that you'd notice it, too. Thank goodness."

"Ok, ok," Harry said. "Dumbledore cut the meeting pretty short. I was a little worried. But he could have just been tired or something, or eager to research, or preoccupied, who knows?"

"Sure, sure."

"Shut up."

After a while, Harry spoke up again. "What did Ron and Hermione say? I don't really like this alternating day thing," he added, "especially because we'd have to review what happened on each other's days. Can't we just tell them? It's not like we're letting the press know about this."

Other Harry glanced at him. "You're so worried about them. It won't hurt if they're not in the know for just this, right?"

Harry stopped walking. "Excuse me. It won't hurt?"

Other Harry paused four feet away and waited.

"You're a twat." Harry whispered as he got near.

"Then by logic, you're a twat as well. Why do they have to know? They'll rest better without knowing."

"Because they're my friends," he hissed. "What do you think they'll say once they do figure out? What do you think they'll feel?"

"Then you don't let them know. You tell them how you wanted to protect them. In fact, if you can't do it, I'll do it."

Harry looked at him coldly. "You're a terrible friend."

"Not like you ever knew what a true friend was," Other Harry singsonged as they entered the common room.

Harry threw his invisibility cloak over his head with a growl.

Harry purposely kept a three feet distance from Other Harry as they maneuvered pass the Gobstones players, the exploding snap players, and the gossiping human traffic clogs. His twin, if he could be rightfully called _his_ twin, was a royal jerk. A scumbag.

He scowled as he saw Other Harry run over to his friends, the same friends whose feelings he had just disregarded seconds ago, and commence animated conversation. Ron was laughing at Harry's jokes while Hermione was shaking her head in exasperated mirth. When Dean and Seamus ran by, Other Harry asked about their summers. Their faces lit up with surprise and elation.

Harry grimaced. He'd never bothered to include Dean and Seamus in many of his conversations before, and now his _twin_ was leading them into a fake friendship. In a dour mood, Harry stomped into the dorm room and sunk into his mattress. He could still hear the dim buzzing of excited voices and chattering laughter. Noticing the orange of Ron's Chudley Cannons flag, he covered his head with more layers of his cloak.

He really didn't want to see anyone right now.

Fifteen minutes later, he felt a nudge to his side.

"I don't want to share a bed."

"Lay off, you bugger," Harry snapped. "I'm not sleeping on the floor, so too bad."

"Sleep in the Room of Requirement." Other Harry said peevishly.

"The what?" Harry lifted a corner of the invisibility cloak and sullenly looked up.

"The Room of Requirement. I'll show you later. Go to bed." Other Harry kicked off his sneakers (the good ones) and climbed into bed. "Oh, and lighten up. You sound like Snape.'

Harry sputtered as the lights went out.

* * *

><p>Poor Harry feels lonely D: and it's supposed to be the best day of the year.<p>

Review, please?


	4. Chapter 4

Harry woke up on the ground the next morning with an icicle for a nose and wood flooring in his face. Even though the fires were roaring and the atmosphere cozy, the cold had seeped through the hardwood floors of the Gryffindor dorms. He rubbed at his nose and sighed.

As uncomfortable the floor was, he really didn't want to get up and face reality. Yesterday's events were still fresh in his mind and dulled any motivation to work.

Ron snored from across the room.

Harry rolled over and groggily sat up. The charmed clock in on the wall read 6:55…or was it 5:55? He could never tell.

"Still grumpy?" a voice murmured from above, startling him.

Harry watched as Other-Harry pulled up the edges of the invisibility cloak to reveal his grinning face.

Harry turned away. "Stop that," he muttered. "You look like an ape—" and then _woosh!_ the breath was knocked out of him, and Harry landed flat on his face.

This was the second time he had kissed the hardwood floors, and he wasn't interested in pursuing the relationship.

"Wow," Harry hissed, lurching up. "You said you didn't want to hurt me?" Black spots swam and danced in his vision, and he cursed getting up so fast. His lower back hurt like yellow jacket stings, and unwelcomed tears reflexively sprang to his eyes.

It felt like Dudley.

Other-Harry glanced at him dismissively and lowered the invisibility cloak.

"Do you want to sleep on your own bed or not?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" Harry snapped. "You jerk. Leave me alone—"

"Room of requirements, _remember_?"

Even though Harry couldn't see him, he could feel the sarcasm dripping off those words. As he followed the dimly echoing footsteps out of the dorm room, his fists were clenched.

_I hate you. I hate you I hate you I hate you._

They rounded a corner. Harry could see the golden yellow-orange of the rising sun, but he barely registered it.

_I hate you. A lot. _

They walked up one flight of stairs, and another, and another. _You're just like Dudley. _

"I hope you're paying attention to where we're going."

Harry didn't even _care._ He brooded over his still smarting back as he limped up another flight of stairs.

_And Dudley will always be a jerk, _he remembered. He scuffed his shoe on an uneven part of the ground. Screw it all; his life always sucked.

"Don't walk into me, idiot."

Harry stopped and looked around. They were in a hallway. Average-looking, plain, old hallway.

"Why'd you stop?" he asked. He heard footsteps around him. "Where are you _going_?"

Suddenly, a door appeared on the wall.

Without being asked, Harry took the doorknob and walked into what must have been the worst organized room in all of history. Piles upon piles of discarded appliances were scattered around the room, some reaching seemingly unimaginable heights. It was a nightmare.

_If only Aunt Petunia could see this…_

"Wow…" he breathed, "How far does this thing go? Whose stuff is this?"

"Nobody's, for all I know." Other-Harry said smugly. "We'll claim it as ours."

Spotting a broomshaft, Harry crept forward to get a better look. The shape of the broom looked suspiciously like a Nimbus 1001, and he was in dire need of his very own broom. The school-edition ones were falling apart.

Quidditch was one of his most favorite things, but, of course, second to his friends. He couldn't believe that he had found a good broom—a nice broom—a wonderful broom.

The glint on the placard indicated that it was a 1001. A smile breaking on his face, he ran towards it.

And tripped, sailing into a mound of stuff nearby. A couple loose trinkets slide down and covered him.

By the time Harry had extricated himself, he was very pissed. And Other-Harry had done nothing to help the situation.

Other-Harry laughed. "You should—ahahaha! see yourself!" he gasped. "Pffft. You were running like mad, and then, all of a sudden—hahahaha! Sprawed across the ground!" A snicker. "Too good, too good. Introducing, the acrobatics-master Harry Potter!" he mocked.

_Shut up._

Doing his best to ignore him, Harry started to pick some of the more tenacious junk off of him. A couple of pins, static-y strips of ribbon, some stupid tiara had found its way onto his leg, where it clamped around his thigh like with a viciousness.

"Stupid tiara." He muttered. "I can't get it off."

"That's because you're a princess, Harry! A _princess!_"

_Shut up._

"How are you even a seeker? You had the klutziness to trip over your own feet! All for this piece of junk." Other-Harry took off his cloak and yanked the broomshaft out. It was broken. "And it's even broken, wow."

Harry yanked on the tiara. "Will you shut up! I can't get. this. OFF!"

Other-Harry sighed and took his time to walk over and examine the tiara.

"It's cutting off your blood circulation," he finally announced.

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Hmm…" Other Harry tried to twist it off. "I guess it's stuck, then."

Harry moaned.

* * *

><p>hahaha...I apologize for writing this story.<p> 


End file.
